


the right choice

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: tastthatyourlipsallow → one of them fell asleep while waiting up for the other to talk about the day they had. crisscolfer please!originally postedhereon tumblr





	the right choice

It’s not an unfamiliar scene: 

Sleeping dog, sleeping cat, sleeping man. 

What is unfamiliar - Chris on top of the still-made bed, fingers loose around his phone. His breathing is deep and even and his hair flops across his forehead in that way it does when he washes it but doesn’t dry it or put any product in. 

He’ll hate that in the morning, Darren thinks, one thought on one track in his constantly spinning mind. 

Darren pulls the blanket from the end of the bed and puts it over Chris. Then he slips back out, dimming the light and shutting the door behind him. 

*

He would love to get in bed with Chris right now, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He needs to unwind. He’s got his favorite methods for it; a long bath, a long fuck, a nightcap. 

Tonight, he goes for the latter. Stripped down to his underwear, he stretches his feet out onto a sofa his body doesn’t quite fill and balances the glass on his bare chest. 

Breathe in, breathe out. 

Chris must have had that candle burning, the one that claims to smell like driftwood at the beach but really smells more like the smoke after a smothered beach campfire. Darren’s mind follows the trails of memory, remembers running with wet sand between his toes and chasing friends like children on the playground except with a lot more weed and booze. 

It’s one of many places he’d like to be right now. So many directions and his feet won’t take him in any of them. Living that life, with those friends, commiserating through a struggle they wouldn’t trade for anything. Living the life everyone promised him he’d have, with bright lights shining and applause deafening. 

Living this life, with Chris, where nights don’t end with one of them tired of waiting and sleeping alone.

*

“Hey,” he hears a sleepy voice say. 

The whiskey glass is twice refilled and twice emptied, but it’s been over an hour so the alcohol only makes him pleasantly loose. 

Chris folds himself onto the side of the couch that Darren isn’t laying on. His limbs are longer but he’s flexible, knees tucked up under his chin. His face is all age and angles now, but in the half-light of the moon he looks like something out of Darren’s early twenties fantasies again. 

“I tried to wait up,” Chris says. “Wanted to hear how it went.“ 

"Yeah.” Darren means to say more, but his mouth opens wide in a yawn that he doesn’t bother to cover. He feels Chris’s toes nudging at the arch of his foot. 

Darren puts the empty glass on the floor and sits up, shuffles on his knees to close the space between them and curls himself awkwardly into Chris, who sighs and kisses his forehead and pets his hair. “I’m so fucking tired,” Darren says, because he finally is. 

“Coming to bed?” Chris asks. He sounds soft and warm, just like bed will be. 

There could be more maudlin thoughts waiting in the corners of his mind. He could stay out here alone and drink until his mind is just a blur. He could get back in his car and go stay at his own house, but none of those are really that appealing. 

“Yeah,” he says. 

Happiness is not always a choice, but once in a while it is.


End file.
